


you were written in the stars (that we are swimming in)

by msdanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Inspired by Daphne and Apollo (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), all I know is she's a raging lesbian, and they fall in love BEFORE the arrows hit, in which kara is the sun goddess and lena is a river nymph, is Artemis actually Alex Danvers? who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdanvers/pseuds/msdanvers
Summary: A drop of water falls from Kara’s nose and lands on Lena’s cheek. Lena chuckles, and Kara smiles with her whole face, her eyes twinkling as she wipes it away with a finger. It’s unnecessary, seeing as Lena’s whole face is still dripping with river water anyway, but she can’t bring herself to care.Then Kara breathes out and Lenafeelsit.The air brushes against her lips, and her eyes flick down to Kara’s mouth. Her heart beats in her chest like it’s trying to escape, and Lena briefly wonders if Kara can feel it too, wonders if some of what she feels is Kara’s heart, not just her own. Then she wonders what it would feel like if Kara were to lean down just a little, what she would taste like if they closed the distance and…—the Apollo and Daphne AU
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	you were written in the stars (that we are swimming in)

**Author's Note:**

> title from Sara Bareilles' _Orpheus_

A gentle breeze touches Lena’s flushed and clammy skin, but it brings no relief – even the air itself is stiflingly hot today. Tree leaves brush against her arms and her cheeks, tickle the soles of her feet, get tangled in her hair. Lena breathes in slowly and lets the scent of the mountains ground her as she makes her way home.

Time has given her the opportunity to memorize the world around her in ways no mortal ever could. She knows the ways rivers flow in winter, after a rainstorm, during a draught. She knows the way they used to flow, and remembers every change. She knows where they end, where they start, _when_ they started.

She would know the way through these mountains blindfolded, on the darkest nights.

Her connection with these forests allows her to notice when something has changed within them – a new presence, or the loss of an old one. Today is one of those moments. Lena isn’t sure what it is. The grass is still scratchy and yellow in the same places as yesterday, still green and soft in others. The cypress trees are still in the same place, and so are the barn owls nesting in their hollows. Even the gray wolves haven’t moved from their resting place since this morning when she left.

Whatever it is, she decides, there is no use dwelling on it now. Lena lets her thoughts drift as she climbs over a fallen tree. Its mossy trunk feels warm on her thighs and hands – familiar, she imagines, like the touch of a lover would feel after centuries of closeness. Intimate, _trusting,_ in a way she herself has never felt with anyone. The thought of it feels familiar even so – she has dreamed of a love like that so often, she can almost feel its warmth.

But romance happens in stories, and a watered-down version of it happens to the other nymphs around her, and nothing like it will ever happen to Lena. She has made peace with that knowledge a long time ago, and if you asked her, she wouldn’t say she’s lonely. Lena treasures the time she spends in solitude, free of judgement and expectations, free of performances. The sweltering heat of today’s noon should be spent just like that, alone.

As she makes her way across a grassy glade, she finally hears the murmur of her river. Lena sighs in relief. She has detested the summer for as long as she can remember, and today’s blinding sun does nothing to change her mind. She can’t wait to dip her tired body in the cold, rushing river water, floating in it with her eyes closed and her mind wandering.

Which is, of course, when she hears it.

Lena stops in her tracks to listen. It’s barely noticeable at first, drowned out by the sounds of singing birds and flowing water, but once she picks it up, it’s unmistakable. Music. Who could it be? Who came to her small corner of the world, only to fill the usual silence with their lyre? 

She starts walking again, a bit quicker this time, frowning as she tries to follow the sound to its source. It’s an instrument she has always enjoyed listening to and yet, Lena realizes the longer she listens, this is like nothing she has ever heard. All the satyrs that have played for her seem like children in comparison, now, like novices trying their hand at an instrument they don’t fully understand. No, _this,_ this is what music is supposed to sound like.

Lena pauses when she catches sight of the river, one hand touching the rough bark of a tree. Her last lingering thoughts of turning the other way slip from her mind the moment she looks upstream, and finds a woman.

On a rock in the middle of the river, with her back to Lena, is the white-dressed and golden-haired lyre player. Sunlight plays with her curls and it almost looks like she’s glowing, like the source of light is not the faraway sun but this woman, playing a melody for herself and the world, unaware of her audience.

Silent, transfixed, Lena walks into the water, barely noting its cool touch as she makes her way upstream.

When the woman stops playing, there is a split second of silence in which Lena realizes there is only a few feet of space between herself and this complete stranger. Is it too late to turn away now? Why did she come this close anyway – could this woman be some kind of siren? Did she walk right into her trap?

Those nervous thoughts are forgotten the moment the woman turns around, lowering her legs into the river with a smile on her face. If she is a siren, Lena finds herself thinking, then let it be so. Let this siren lure her in with the sweetness of her song, let her ship be wrecked in the unforgiving ocean waves. She will not resent her for it.

But, like good things tend to do, the smile on the woman’s face vanishes the moment she lays eyes on Lena. Of course. This is not one of her daydreams, this is _reality_ , in its usual painful bluntness. An all too familiar feeling takes hold of Lena’s heart – if she had to choose a word to describe it, she would say it’s disappointment. It’s deeper than that, though, and more expected.

Lena opens her mouth to say – what, she doesn’t know, but something cruel and yet indifferent enough to get this stranger to leave her alone. She doesn’t get the chance.

A sudden note, strange and off-key, paired with the sound of crushing wood, makes Lena look down at the woman’s hands. Her knuckles are white, and the lyre is completely destroyed. Lena feels her eyes widen at both the loss of such a beautiful instrument and the _strength_ it must have taken to break it so easily. The woman doesn’t even seem to be aware of it, her eyes still focused on Lena.

This time when she studies the stranger’s face, Lena starts to wonder if she was too fast in interpreting her expression. Her smile might have fallen, but it never fell into the uninterested, slightly repulsed look that other nymphs generally give her. What she finds is more like shock, or maybe… awe? Lena feels embarrassed even _thinking_ something as hopeful and desperate as that.

“You broke your lyre,” she says, at loss for anything bright to say.

The woman seems startled at her voice, and for one breathtaking heartbeat, she keeps staring at Lena. Then she looks down at the broken pieces of lyre in her hands. She doesn’t seem too bothered as she lays them down behind her and looks back up. “Hi.”

Lena chuckles. “Hi.”

“You have a leaf stuck in your hair.” The woman blinks after she speaks, like she wasn’t expecting herself to say that either.

“Oh.” Lena combs through her hair quickly, suddenly aware that she spent the morning walking through the forest, and probably looks the part. “Where–” she starts, but when she looks up, she suddenly finds herself face to face with the stranger’s _very_ distracting blue eyes.

“Here,” she answers. The woman’s hand brushes against Lena’s before she runs her fingers through her hair. Lena’s eyes flutter closed unconsciously at the woman’s touch, and she exhales slowly, feeling tension leave her body that she hadn’t even been aware of.

“Look.” Lena opens her eyes to the woman’s radiant smile, and she can’t help but return it. She reaches for the leaf that the woman is holding, accidentally-purposely touching her hand more than necessary in the process.

“Thank you,” she says, unconsciously lowering her voice, and – is that a blush on the woman’s cheeks? “You play beautifully, by the way. Sorry for listening in.”

The woman smiles at her. “Well, I’ve had some practice.” It sounds like she’s joking, but Lena missed the punchline. She smiles back anyway.

“What’s your name?”

“Kara,” the woman answers.

Lena laughs, but her smile vanishes when the woman doesn’t join her. “What?” she says, feeling the leaf slip from her fingers. Water splashes around her thighs as she takes a hurried step back. Oh, _no._ “Kara?”

The woman nods. “What’s yours?”

“You’re an Olympian,” Lena whispers. It makes sense, in the end. Who else but the Olympian goddess of music, the inventor of the instrument itself, could play the lyre so skillfully? Who else but the goddess of the sun, Zeus’ favored daughter, could have such divine beauty – such entrancing charm?

The stranger before her is no stranger at all, but the twin of Artemis the huntress. She is the goddess that killed the mighty Python, son of Gaia herself.

“Yes. And you must be a naiad. I mean, this is a river, and you are very –” the goddess cuts herself off suddenly, frowning a little. “Are you all right?”

Lena takes another step back, her heart beating in her throat. “Forgive me,” she says. She tries to recall everything she said to Kara. Has she offended the goddess, thinking her just another nymph? Should she have bowed for her, paid her respects, offered her food?

Lena knows enough about the wrath of gods to be cautious.

Zeus pursued a girl, refused to take her ‘no’ for an answer, and in retaliation Hera transformed the girl into a cow and drove her to madness. Artemis was disturbed by an unsuspecting hunter while she was bathing, and he was torn to pieces by his own dogs. Kara herself, joined by her twin sister, had slaughtered all fourteen children of the mother who had dared to insult theirs.

Will Lena become the next name to be whispered around fires, remembered for ages for her misfortune and mistakes?

“You are frightened. Of me.” Lena looks up, but finds no ire in Kara’s eyes.

Surely, that can’t be right. Lena has laughed at her, tried to _flirt_ with her. She can only think of one reason the goddess wouldn’t have minded that, but she doesn’t let herself believe it.

“Forgive me,” she says again, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“There is nothing to forgive. And I’m not going to hurt you.” Kara gently puts a hand on Lena’s arm. “Look at me? There is nothing to forgive.” Lena can’t believe the goddess of archery is looking so… tender. While looking at _her_. “Breathe.”

Realizing that she did, indeed, forget to do that, Lena takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Kara laughs.

“Are you sure I haven’t offended you? I didn’t know…”

“I’m sure.” Then she smiles mischievously. “But I could exact my revenge anyway, if that would make you feel better.”

Lena opens her mouth, and gets hit in the face with a splash of water before she can ask questions.

She spits the water out, too startled to react at first. But Kara is biting her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and a high and nervous giggle escapes Lena’s lips before she can stop it.

Her hand shoots up to her mouth immediately, as if she could still cover up the sound that has already escaped. But Kara bursts out laughing too, loud and lovely, and Lena couldn’t keep a straight face while hearing _that_ if her life depended on it.

“Now, I bet even a water nymph can’t have better aim than me.”

Lena smiles at her, one eyebrow raised. Her hands are already underwater, her muscles already tightened, before she thinks – _this is a_ _god, what am I doing? –_ and redirects the throw downwards at the very last moment. Managing to avoid Kara’s face, unfortunately, has the side-effect of splashing water all over her dress instead.

Kara looks down at the wet linen clinging to her figure, then back up at Lena, who is trying very hard _not_ to look at it. “I must say, I was expecting better.”

Kara has barely finished her sentence when Lena hits her again, square in the face this time. Lena lets out a short, joyous laugh at the shocked expression on Kara’s face. Then, before the goddess can retaliate, she dives into the river and swims away as fast as she can. She feels the water shift behind her and knows she’s being pursued.

The muffled sounds of the underwater world mix with the fast beating of her excited heart as they shoot through the river. The water gets deeper the further she goes, rocks and plants flashing by as she swims and swims and swims. She feels strong and _alive_ and her smile doesn’t fade until she finds her way blocked by a school of fresh-water fish.

Lena doesn’t really feel like swimming into them face-first, so she dives down to the bottom of the river. Her hands disappear in squishy mud before finding solid rock, and she pushes herself upwards again.

But the move slowed her down, and when she looks over her shoulder, a flash of white and gold is all the warning she gets before muscular arms catch her around the waist and a body slams into hers.

She barely has time to register Kara’s closeness before she realizes what’s happening. Kara was coming from beside her, and now they’re going way too fast in what is decidedly _not_ the direction they should be going. They’re headed straight for the shore.

Kara manages to turn Lena around in her arms and pull her close before they collide with the riverside pebbles, spraying them everywhere.

It doesn’t hurt – both her head and her back have somehow made a soft landing, even though Kara ended up on top of her. They’re both panting when she opens her eyes and finds Kara’s face close to hers, her cheeks flushed and her eyes concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Lena nods and smiles. Kara smiles back and they don’t say a word, but then they’re laughing again, uncontrollably and without shame. She doesn’t just hear Kara’s laugh, she _feels_ it, reverberating through the parts of their bodies that are touching.

When Kara wriggles her arms free from under Lena’s body, one of her hands disappears from its place under Lena’s head.

 _Oh._ That explains the lack of pain. Kara must have taken the brunt of the impact.

“Are _you_ okay?” Lena asks, frowning.

“Of course,” Kara answers with a lopsided smile. She is leaning on her forearms, now, hovering over Lena. The sun above her is like a halo, a crown of light that paints the edges of her silhouette golden. Lena breathes in the forest air, the familiar scent of the river joined by an unfamiliar sweetness, a sweetness that must be _Kara._

Their bodies are intertwined, the river still flowing past their legs while most of Lena’s body is resting on the sun-warmed shore they crashed into. And most of Kara’s body is resting on Lena, her warmth seeping through the fabric of their clothes.

A drop of water falls from Kara’s nose and lands on Lena’s cheek. Lena chuckles, and Kara smiles with her whole face, her eyes twinkling as she wipes it away with a finger. It’s unnecessary, seeing as Lena’s whole face is still dripping with river water anyway, but she can’t bring herself to care.

Then Kara breathes out and Lena _feels_ it.

The air brushes against her lips, and her eyes flick down to Kara’s mouth. Her heart beats in her chest like it’s trying to escape, and Lena briefly wonders if Kara can feel it too, wonders if some of what she feels is Kara’s heart, not just her own. Then she wonders what it would feel like if Kara were to lean down just a little, what she would taste like if they closed the distance and…

“I’m sorry. I should go,” Kara says.

Lena’s hands slip away from Kara’s waist when she pushes herself up, leaving Lena behind, startled and breathless. Her wet dress feels sticky and cold against her skin in the absence of Kara’s touch, the pebbles in her back suddenly too sharp, the sunlight too bright.

How could she have misread the situation so badly?

Lena sits up too, feeling her whole face flush in embarrassment. She can’t bring herself to look at Kara. She lets her hair fall between them like a shield, and looks down at her fiddling hands instead.

“Can I visit you again?”

Her gaze shoots up when Kara breaks the silence, and she finds the goddess looking at her with a tentative smile.

Lena is silent, stunned, for a long moment. Too long, probably, because Kara nods to herself and starts to get up.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Kara says, and it sounds like a farewell – why does it sound like a farewell?

“Wait,” Lena says softly.

“Don’t worry, it’s all right. I’ll just –” Kara starts walking away, and Lena’s heart skips a beat.

“No, wait!” Lena captures Kara’s hand and she almost forgets how to breathe when Kara’s eyes meet hers. “I’d… love to see you again.”

For a moment, all she hears is the rustling leaves and the river. Kara’s hand is warm and soft and still dripping with river water, and Lena wishes it were hers to hold for as long as it took to dry, and for longer after that.

“Really,” Kara breathes.

“Really.”

Kara breathes out a laugh, and it almost sounds relieved. “Then I’ll see you soon.”

Smiling, Lena squeezes Kara’s hand softly, something fluttering inside of her when Kara squeezes back and strokes the back of her hand with her thumb before letting go. Lena watches her walk away, watches her turn around one last time when she reaches the trees, watches her smile. Then she watches her disappear, like all of this was just another daydream.

But it wasn’t. Lena lifts a hand to her face, touches it where Kara touched her, and sits down slowly. She closes her eyes, and sighs.

**Author's Note:**

> are you the goddess of the sun? wife applications are now open on tumblr @[msdanvers](https://msdanvers.tumblr.com/).


End file.
